Howl
by Jinora
Summary: "The girls exchanged glances. It was as if they were sharing secret, telepathic messages." AU, Adriane/Zach. Based in 17th Century France, a half-baked tale of witches, wolves, and a curse that will rip a town to shreds.
1. Howl

She released a shaky breath into the stagnant, autumn air. Opening heavy eyelids, she glanced around blurily into the hazy atmosphere. Her fingers twitched and her limbs ached, sharp pains ate at her joints from lack of mobility. It was cold, too, and the blood that soaked her clothes, and covered her skin in dark scarlet splotches didn't help much. Some of it could have been her's, but she was fairly certain that it wasn't. She wriggled her ankles and pulled her arms, fighting with her bindings for a long minute. But the ropes wouldn't budge.

Adriane huffed, settling her bare feet down onto the cold marble floor. She squinted into the dark, shadowy images taking shape in the dim light. Pale light streamed threw the tall stained glass windows, casting colourful shapes on the floor.

_The church? How fitting. Oh father, forgive me for I have sinned..._

Adriane gave a short, noncommittal grunt as she struggled with her bound limbs. With one, forceful jerk of her leg, she had successfully tipped over the chair. With a yelp, she—still attached to the wooden furnishing—came clambering to the ground, shoulder hitting stone with a sharp crack. Adriane choked back a whimper. She had definitely fractured something.

**Oh god.**

Adriane prayed—not because she believed in any such god, but mostly out of desperation—that Zach would stay away. She couldn't bear to let him see her like this, all bound and broken.

_Unless he's into that sort of thing..._

**He most certainly is not!**

Turning her head back towards the windows, she strained her neck to steal a glance at the sky. The setting sun had stained the usually clear azure a striking shade of crimson. In the distance, she could just make out the full moon, beginning its climb towards the heavens. Soon the sun would dip below the horizon, and the world would be plunged into iridescent moonlight. She shuddered at the thought of her own untimely demise.

The faint smell of smoke caught her attention, along with shouts, yells from just beyond the church doors. She could feel the thudding of impatient feet threw the ground. The whole town must have gathered.

They were here to burn a witch. Or a wolf. Only the moon would tell.

* * *

><p><strong>I know I really shouldn't be starting a new story, as I'm almost finished "The Course of True Love..." but I had to start this. It started off as just a half-baked idea inspired by a song. I tucked the idea neatly into the far creases of my brain, seemingly never to be touched again. But then I started doing a project yesterday on that same song, and the idea was pulled up to the for-front once more, this time with plot. <strong>

**This is an AU, based in 17th Century France. I'm doing a lot of research, I want to make this as accurate as possible. The current rating is T, but that may change in the future, depending on how far I decide to take this. I hope you enjoyed reading what little I have here. I had a lot of fun writing it (: **


	2. A Man Who's Pure of Heart

The morning was clear, the rising sun painting the dawn pale shades of pink and yellow. It was not yet summer, and the cold still clung to every bone, chilling the air, and coating the grass in a thin layer of frost. Zach stifled back a yawn, fighting to keep his eyes open. He had been riding all night, on his way to the next town. The plan was to make it there _before _sunrise. He had even tried to cut threw the woods, which, if his memory served him correctly, edged along side the town. Unfortunately, the woods had beaten him, and he was soon lost. He was usually so resourceful, but you could chalk his misfortune up to sleep deprivation, and underestimation of a deceivingly dense forest. In the end he had chosen to turn back, not that there had been any other option.

"Just another few miles," he whispered, more for his benefit than his horse's. As if on cue, his pace quickened. "No need to rush..." Zach breathed, exhausted. Releasing the reins with one hand, he brushed his fingers threw his tawny main, in an attempt to sooth the hurried animal. He could feel his eyelids, dangerously heavy. Zach closed his eyes for just a moment. Suddenly he was pitched sideways, hitting the frozen earth with a thump. He stayed there for a long minute, reveling in how the cold felt on his bare cheek. With a groan, Zach pushed himself into a sitting position. Fully awake now, he blinked rapidly, staring off in the direction his horse had taken off in. He leaned on one hand, scratching his head as he whistled.

"Drake, get back here!" Zach shouted, throat raw from the cold air. He squinted his eyes against the sun, which was steadily becoming brighter as it made it's journey into the sky. He was pleased to find that Drake hadn't gone far, and even more pleased when he came back, halting for a second to nudge one of Zach's legs with his nose.

Zach sighed as he stood, brushing himself clean of dirt and ice. With the precision of an expert horsemen, he threw his leg over the animal, jumping into the saddle, his frozen limbs giving him little resistance. He made a clicking sound with his mouth, urging Drake forward. After another hour of fruitless wandering, Zach could finally make out the outline of a town over the crest of a hill.

"Thank God," he muttered with a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. Now, if he could just keep his eyes open for fifteen minutes, he could find a cheap tavern. Tapping Drake's side with the toes of his boots, Zach urged the animal along. Drake responded with a nod of his head, moving into a steady lope.

Approaching the outer wall of the town, Zach dismounted, leading Drake the final ten feet. Zach shuffled uncomfortably for a moment before knocking on the wooden gate. A small window, barely one square foot, swung open, revealing the face of an older fellow. He must have been in his sixties, at least. Long, wavy white hair mingled with a modest white beard. His leathery skin flushed pink in the cold. Piercing blue eyes eyed Zach from behind wire-framed glasses.

"State your business," his voice was gruff, but not altogether unpleasant.

"I'm just passing threw," Zach started, "I'm looking for a tavern for the night-er.. what's left of the night,"

The old man chuckled, closing the window and opening the gate. Zach gave him a smile as he lead Drake threw the wide opening. "Could you point me in the direction of the nearest tavern?" he asked the man.

"If you head straight along this road," the man pointed, "if you turn on your first left you'll see a sign, _Rai d'Or_. You can't miss it,"

"And, um, you wouldn't happen to know where a stable is, would you?" he asked, gesturing to Drake, who made a soft snuffling noise in agreement.

The man nodded, stepping out of his small booth "Yes, but I'm afraid it's across town. I could call someone to bring your horse over if you'd like,"

Zach made a face, thinking hard "that's alright, I'm sure I can find it..." he looked off into the distance. So much for sleeping. The man rattled off a few directions, which Zach only half caught, and shooed him off, muttering something like 'kids these days'. He wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he didn't much care. Zach thanked the man with a wave of his hand and and a curt nod. Zach began the trek down the icy cobble-stone. Zach followed the directions, improvising when he needed to, and soon he was back to the main road in search of the inn. Zach didn't flinched as he turned down a dark, imposing allyway. To his right he spotted a small sign hanging above a flight of stairs into the ground. 'Rai d'Or'. Yes, this was the place. Zach stumbled down the stairs, drunk on exhaustion. He barely remembered the strange look the bar-keep gave him as he asked for a room, nor did he remember walking to his room, or passing out with his shoes on.

* * *

><p>Zach awoke at the next morning, light streaming threw the flimsy cotton curtains. He winced covering his eyes with his hands. With a groan, Zach rolled out of the bed, stretching as he made his way across the room, and down the stairs. He left without breakfast, heading straight for the stable. It was a bright day. A warm breeze brushed his skin. The sun shone and glinted off of windows and awnings. He shrugged off his jacket has he walked down the narrow ally. He didn't notice the other morning, but in the light this town was actually kind of nice. It was cute, quaint, with traditional architecture and spacious cobble-strone streets. Worlds away from Paris or Lyon, and he thought that maybe, if he were looking to settle, it might be a nice place to live out the rest of his days. A ridiculous notion for someone such a him, he pushed that thought to the back of his mind, filing this town away for future consideration.<p>

Zach wound his way threw streets of people, crossing the small town in no time as he approached the stables where he had left Drake the previous morning. It was a long, one story building with one open side facing a market, each stall was closed off with tall red-painted doors. Horses of all breeds could been seen, hanging their head's over the fence. Drake was easy enough to spot. Zach shoved his hands in his pockets, finding a shop-hand—a young boy who called him 'sir—he pointed towards Drake.

"I'd like-" movement caught his eye, and he found himself staring at a woman clad in a black dress across the road. Zach cleared his throat. "I'd like to board my horse here for the rest of the day," he glanced back towards the woman at the market. There was really nothing special about her at first glance. Long, straight black hair, black dress. Still, he was finding her increasingly distracting.

"Of course, sir," the boy replied, dropping the bag of oats he had been carrying as he dug in his pocket for a small notebook an pen. He made a small mark, on the sheet. Zach doubted he could read or write. The shop-hand crushed the notebook-and-pen back into his pocket, glancing up at Zach, he followed his gaze.

"Who is that?" he asked, pointing discreetly in the direction of the brunette.

"Adriane Charday, sir," the boy replied without a second glance. "She lives in the Moving Woods, just on the other side of town, but I wouldn't go snooping around there. They say she's a witch,"

"And you believe that lunacy?" Zach asked, glancing down at the stable-hand.

"I suppose so, I mean, just look at the way she's dressed,"

It was true, her out-of-date dress did make her stick out like a sore thumb. Yet, it wasn't her clothing that drew his attention, but the sour expression she wore. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, and yet, she looked as though she held a great deal of responsibility. "I hardly believe you can tell a witch from her form of dress..." he mused, passing the boy a few coins. His eyes followed her as she examined a cabbage. Zach frowned, noticing an item fall from her pocket.

"Well, she doesn't go to church, and she isn't exactly..." the boy had been saying, but Zach wasn't listening anymore. He made his way towards the market, and the girl. In one swift movement, he knelt, scooping up said-dropped object.

"Excuse me, miss, you dropped this," he told her, examining the trinket, which he found to be a smooth, round stone, before standing.

She turned slowly, tensing as if he had just offended her. "Oh," her sour expression melted for a moment. He couldn't help but smile at the innocent surprise in her tone. "Thank you," she told him, reaching out a dainty hand. Her movements were slow, and uncertain. She took the stone, fingers barely brushing his palm. Her eyes met his only briefly before glancing away, out of embarrassment or apprehension, he couldn't tell.

"M-my name is Zachariah," he blurted, but then silently chastised himself. An adult of twenty-one, he was long over being scared speechless by pretty girls.

"Zachariah," she turned the word over slowly, thoughtfully as she turned back towards the cabbages. "Names hold power, Zachariah. You'd be wise not to give yours away so freely." she told him, though he detected the slightest hint of playfulness.

If her intention was to leave him speechless, then she was successful. His tongue felt like lead in his mouth, even if he _could _speak, what would he say to that?

"That being said," she spoke suddenly, fixing dark eyes on his moss-greens. She was impressed that he had had the courage to talk to her at all. Most people were intimidated, and she didn't need to ask why. "My name is Adriane," she handed the marketsman a few coins and placed her selected cabbage into the wicker basket that hung from her left arm. "What language is that?" she asked, casually.

"P-pardon?"

"Your name," she clarified. "What language is it? It certainly isn't French,"

"Uh, um,"

_This is when you talk, idiot._

"English," Zach cleared his throat. "It's English,"

"English?" she repeated, and he nodded quickly. "What's an Englishman doing this far into the French countryside?"

**Good question.**

"Um, I'm an explorer..." he said in a wistful tone. He wasn't sure what his mouth was doing. "I explore,"

_Riiight._

"An explorer, how _exciting_," her voice was steady, though he was sure he could hear the slightest trace of sarcasm on her breath. A strange gleam shone across her dark iris', an amused smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

_Even she didn't buy it. _

"Er, well, yes. I suppose it is..." he kicked himself again, that was _not _the response he had meant to give her.

She gave him a soft smile for his efforts, and he wondered briefly if she was playing coy, or if she was actually this smooth. He also wondered why he couldn't breath, or move. His vision went foggy, and his thoughts felt like sludge at the corner of his mind. Crawling along, like tar. Thick, and sticky. "I'd best be going," she told him, and for a moment he could have sworn he forget French "it was a pleasure speaking with you, Zachariah," with that she was gone, and with her, the spell that had previously transfixed his senses. He stared after her, waiting for the feeling to return to his fingers.

Maybe he would stay a few more days...

* * *

><p>"your hair looks nice today,"<p>

Adriane glanced up from her basket, giving the redhead a sweet smile. "Thank you," she reached a slender hand towards the crown of her head, self consciously groping at her bound locks. She wound the lone tendril that hung over her shoulder around her index finger, touching up the curl that fought so hard to return to its natural straight. Adriane studied Emily's auburn ringlets with envy. "I wish my hair were curly, like your's" a tiny frown formed at the corner of her mouth.

Emily blushed. "You don't, really. It gets all tangled and..." she ran her finger's threw her hair, catching every knot. Those weren't there this morning. "your hair looks so good straight..." she sputtered.

Adriane chuckled, turning back to her basket, pulling out two small satchels. She placed one, which was filled with Red Mint, onto the counter that separated the young women. From the other she plucked four coins, handing them over to the redhead. In exchange Emily gave her a small jar made of tinted glass.

"Give your grandmother my wishes," Emily said with a bright smile.

"I will," Adriane nodded, turning towards the door.

"Oh! I almost forgot," Emily pulled something out from a cabinet to her right. She walked around the counter to where Adriane had paused. "There was a werewolf siting last fullmoon," she cautioned, holding out the freshly-picked herb. "It's wolf's bane."

Adriane furrowed her brows in confusion. "Where did you find this?" She asked slowly. Even she knew that it didn't grow around these parts.

"I found a small patch of it in your forest when I was visiting your grandmother the other day,"

"Oh," Adriane reached out slowly, taking the budding herb from her friend's hand, and placing it into the basket at her side. "Thank you,"

"Farewell," Emily raised her hand in a curt wave, but the girl was already out the door.

Adriane hurried down the street, trekking along at an alarming pace. Lifting the front of her dress off of the ground as not to trample it, she set her jaw and straightened her spine. The sound of horseshoes on cobble-stone filled her ears, so much so that she barely noticed the set that was coming dangerously close to her. A shiver ghosted down her spine, and she finally glanced up towards her right.

"Ms. Charday,"

Adriane's eyes widened in shock, recoiling as if she had just been struck. "oh... Zacha-"

"Please, call me Zach." he insisted, straightening his waist-coat.

"Zach..." Adriane started, taking in his full appearance, she noticed that he was walking a horse. Adriane took a small step to the side, as to add some distance between them.

"Your hair is different today,"

"Ah..." once again, she felt at the curls bound behind her head. "Yes, so it would seem..."

"I think I prefer it down..." he commented in a thoughtful tone.

"Ah-Yes-Well-" she stumbled over her words for a moment before regaining her composure. She wasn't used to such kindness from a stranger. "Thank you... is this your horse?" she questioned.

"It is," Zach confirmed, proudly giving the horses neck a firm pat.

"What is his name?" she asked, digging an apple out of the basket, and presented it to the proud animal, who munched on it gratefully.

"His name?" Zach choked, mind suddenly blank.

"Yes, his name." her eyes darted back to him "he _does _have a name, doesn't he?"

_Yes, he does. What is it, Zach? Or have you forgotten the name of your own steed?_

"It's Drake,"

"Is that English as well?" she questioned.

"Yes, from the Latin _Draco. _It means Dragon," he watched a strange smile spread across her features. "He likes you,"

"I can see that," she drawled, as Drake nuzzled her temple. "Why Drake?"

"I'm not actually sure, he had already been named when he was given to me,"

"Oh, well... He's lovely,"

"You have that in common," her expression dropped, and her eyes widened but before she had time to to thank him, which he was sure would have been just as awkward as everything else she did, something caught his eye. Wolf's bane. Where did she get wolf's bane? "Are you having a problem with lycanthropy?"

Adriane glanced down at the plant in her basket. Suddenly she was laughing in a way that was all too animated. She raised her hand to her mouth in an attempt to squash the bubbling sound that was some how too foreign for her own ears.

"Actually, a friend of mine gave it to me," Adriane explained, tucking the herb under a handkerchief "There was a werewolf sighting last month," she added with a roll of her eyes.

This, despite the obvious disbelief in her voice, got his attention. "Really? And..." he paused, chuffing his knuckles across the stubble along his jawline "how much do you know? Of the werewolf sighting that is,"

She let out one last chuckle, lifting her chin to a haughty angle "well, I certainly haven't seen anything in _my _woods," her tone was strange, and Zach had to take a moment to decipher it.

"So you _do _live in the woods..." he said, mostly to himself.

"That is correct," she confirmed evenly.

"Hmm..." he hummed in thought, glancing at the ground for a mere second before capturing her in an intense stare. "Maybe you could show me around some time?"

Her steps faltered for a moment, before regaining her steady gait. "And why would I do that?"

"I'm a map maker. I'd love to make a map of this area,"

"A map maker now? How interesting considering just yesterday you were an explorer," she hissed, her voice full of venom.

_Yoooou're iiiin trooooouuublle._

"Uh, yes, well-"

"Stay out of the woods, Zachariah," she ordered, anger evident in the way her shoulders shook, voice trembling. She straightened her spine, calming her breathing "now, if you're _done, _I have errands to attend to. _Good day_,"

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter almost killed me. No, seriously. This whole chapter has been one big fight with myself. The beginning was the hard part, really. Some days I liked it, some days I didn't. The more I look at it the more I hate it, so I'm just going to post it and then edit it more tomorrow. Please forgive any mistakes, it's really late here T.T<strong>

**Besides the first bit, I actually had a lot of fun writing Adriane. She's so fun, I feel like there's a lot I can do with her in this setting, and I'm loving it. She's straight up trolling him on their first encounter, and it's great. Zach's laying on the charm a little too thick on their second meeting as some sort of counter measure, and it's working. I really wasn't sure if I wanted to name Drake, Drake in this. But, I mean, what else would I name him? I don't even. This takes place five months in the past. **

**I get the feeling that this Emily may be kind of infatuated with this time period's Adriane. Maybe that's wishful thinking cause I totally ship it, but it's just the impression that I get. I dunno, I'll let her tell me when I write about her in the future. I hope you enjoyed this! Rate and Review :3**


	3. And Says His Prayers by Night

Adriane gave a contented sigh, turning the page of her book. She was curled up in the window seat of the Apothecary shop. An odd place for light reading, but she wanted to be somewhere she felt comfortable.

"Adriane," she was pulled away from the world of _Jean Lemaire de Belges_ with a start. She glanced over her shoulder, eyes narrowed in suspicion, but soon found herself face to face with the gentle features of Carolyn. Emily's mother, who had watched over Adriane for a number of years now. "I brought you some tea,"

Turning, Adriane shifted her legs off of the window seat, moving into a proper sitting position. She folded the corner of her page, and tossed the book aside as she reached for the flower-printed tea-cup. "Th-thank you," Adriane said all too rigidly, causing the Apothecary to frown.

"Adriane, you don't have to be so formal," she said with a hopeful smile, "you're part of this family,"

Adriane gave her a weak smile, staring up at the woman as she sipped at her tea. Carolyn was a tall, twiggy woman with curly red hair and an adorable spattering of freckles across every inch of exposed skin. Her eyes were deep chocolate brown, and were warm and inviting, but shone with some inner turmoil. Her husband, the original apothecary of the shop, had died years ago. She never remarried. Despite the evident hole in her heart, she was incredibly kind, and loving to anyone who stepped through the shop's door. She was intelligent and, while she was not formally educated, Adriane often found herself marveling at this woman's amount of knowledge.

Adriane savored the sweet taste of the tea, prepared exactly how she liked it, as she watched the woman head into the back room, just as her daughter exited. Emily immediately began straightening the front counter. Organizing and tidying as Adriane sipped her tea and returned to her book of poetry. She curled her legs beneath her, returning to the world of sonnets and rhyme scheme.

"What are you reading?" Emily questioned after a moment.

"Poetry," was Adriane's simple reply, her eyes glued to the page.

"Mmm," Emily hummed, eyes cast downward at the drawers below the counter.

**Should I organize those? Would that be alright? Is there anything important in there?**

She wracked her brain for the contents of the drawers. "Could I hear some?" she asked, half interested.

"Within this tomb, which is a harsh, locked cell," Adriane began without warning, picking up where she had just finished reading. "Lies the green lover, a very worthy slave. Whose noble heart, drunk with true, pure love, losing it's lady cannot bear to live..."

Emily's eyes widened for a moment, "That was... pretty. What is it about?"

"It's about a parrot," Adriane drawled.

Emily glared down at the drawers. "A parrot?"

"Yes. It's a kind of bird," Adriane stated matter-of-factly. She put her book down, turning her head to glance over her shoulder. "How long are you going to be?" she questioned.

"Oh..." Emily glanced up at her friend, not having realized that she was waiting for her. "I don't know... why?"

"Want to go out for dinner?" she asked. "When you're done of cour-"

The bell above the door _dinged _as it swung open. "Adriane!" came the hurried call of an all too familiar voice. "I have been looking all over for you!" the blond exclaimed. "Hello, Emily," she squeezed in.

"Oh, how _ever _did you find me?" Adriane mewled, rolling her eyes.

"I saw you through the window," Kara explained, tilting her chin up as she adjusted her frilly purple dress.

"That's fascinating, Kara,"

"Ohh, somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,"

Adriane pursed her lips, a small sigh escaping threw her nostrils. She stared at the ground for a short moment before redirecting her focus to the girl before her. "I'm sorry," Adriane admitted. Kara was the daughter of a wealthy land owner. He owned most of the town, and even had a spot in court, though Adriane didn't know his official title. Kara knew everything there was to know about everyone, and although the pair were unlikely friends, they had gone to school together. They had grown close, despite their differences—and fighting—and Kara felt obligated to inform Adriane of any new rumor that cropped up about her. It was no big deal really. Some name calling and false accusations of witch-craft were a daily occurrence for the Charday women.

"Heather told _me_ that she saw _you_ harassing a man yesterday," Kara stated breezily, picking at her finger nails.

"I wasn't _harassing _him," Adriane grumbled, rolling her eyes once more.

"Who?" Emily's face turned a unique shade of crimson.

"That's not was Heather told me,"

"_Who_?" Emily pushed meekly.

"He was harassing me," Adriane huffed, her cheeks colouring until they matched Emily's.

"Who is he?" Kara asked with a sly grin.

"What?"

"Yeah, wh-who is he?" Emily asked, leaning over the counter.

"He's **nobody**," Adriane insisted, standing.

**Nobody.**

"I barely met him a day ago. We don't even really know eachother. I don't see what the point of this conversation is," she rolled her eyes. Kara always had to be the center of everyone's business.

"I'm just telling you what I heard," the blonde stated with a shrug of her shoulders. "My father thinks you're a menace," she added, joking of course but Adriane still crossed her arms with defiance.

"Your father also believes that werewolves exist. Consider the source," Adriane scoffed.

"Werewolves _do _exist!" Kara insisted. Emily nodded as well.

"Woah, woah, girls," Carolyn stepped through the back door, walking in between the pair. "What's all this yelling about?" she asked, holding her hands up defensively.

"Carolyn, tell Adriane that werewolves exist," Kara demanded, pointing an accusing finger at the brunette.

"Kara's right, Adriane. There have been so many sitings in the past couple of months," She paused, taking in Adriane's skeptical frown, "Who's to say that there aren't creatures of mystery lurking in those woods? Just because you cannot see them..."

"What, like vampires and werewolves?" Adriane scoffed, "They don't exist,"

"Werewolves or not, the woods _are_ getting more dangerous. Especially at night. I wish you'd come live with us, instead of making the trip through the woods every night. It's just not safe, really,"

"I'll be fine," came the brunette's offhanded reply.

Carolyn frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. After a long, tense moment between the group, she spoke "Kara, would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely, Carolyn," Kara responded with flourish, bringing out her best diplomat's voice, the one her mother had taught her at a young age. She held herself with perfect posture, born by years of back braking ballet lessons. She raised her chin a millimeter, staring down her perfect ski-slope nose at Adriane.

Carolyn planted her hands on her hips, glancing between the pair with a curious expression. With a sigh, she turned towards the back door, and headed up the stairs towards the suite she shared with Emily.

The trio stood in silence. Kara stuck out her tongue teasingly. Adriane puffed out an upward sigh into her long bangs, locks dancing in every direction as her eyes narrowed. Emily just rolled her eyes.

The bell above the door dinged, and the intruder stopped in his tracks, startled as he met the annoyed glares of the trio.

"A-Adriane, I've been looking for you," Zach huffed, out of breath. Perhaps he had been running.

"Let me guess, you saw me through the window" She replied coldly, crossing her arms.

"Y-yeah, how did you know?"

The girls exchanged glances. Emily's face burned bright red, while Kara's eyebrows raised in innuendo. It was as if they were sharing secret, telepathic messages. Zach was becoming increasingly convinced of the presence of a certain witch-girl, though he pushed the thought aside, returning to his past stance of skepticism.

"What do you want?" Adriane tilted her chin expertly.

"I-I just want to apologize," he began, fumbling as he tapped his fingers together anxiously, "For yesterday,"

Adriane shot Kara a look, another secret message that he could not decifer.

"I didn't mean to upset you, and you left so quickly. I was wondering if there was anything I could do to make it up to y-"

"No," Adriane examined her fingernails, one arm still clasped around her torso.

Kara glanced between the pair as a long silence filled the air. She stepped forward, holding out her hand for him to kiss.

"My name is Kara," she said as if she were the most important individual in the world. She moved herself between her friend and the man.

Zach shook her hand awkwardly, looking past her to Adriane, who simply flipped her hair and turned away. "Zach. Nice to meet you," he replied, just as awkward as the hand shake

Kara gave Emily a look, before taking him by the arm. She pulled out her fan, covering her mouth coyly. She stared up at him through thick blonde eyelashes. "I think Adriane is busy," her voice was soft, comforting "Come, let me show you around town," He stumbled after her, as she pulled him out the door. Through the window, Kara could see her dark-haired friend crumple back into the window-seat.

"So, Zach, what brings you to our humble town?" she asked, raising the hem of her purple velvet dress off of the ground. Zach couldn't help but wonder if she were a princess or something.

"Just... passing through," he squeaked meekly.

"And you're interested in _my_ Adriane, I see," this time she was definitely mocking him.

"W-what? How-no!" Zach stole a downward glance at the girl now clinging to his arm. She was beautiful, with demanding blue eyes that seemed to pull the information from his mind. He nodded helplessly.

Kara tossed her head, blonde curls bouncing adorably. "She likes purple iris'. There's a shop just down the street that sells them," she smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter three! So... yes. This is a very long, boring chapter who's only purpose is to introduce Kara. I also tried to highlight the fact that, despite Adriane's mature, serious personality, she's still a teenager. And teenagers are often annoyed, stubborn, and petulant (not all teenagers, though). I also wanted to bring light to the gossip in the town. Gossip was a huge part of the 16-17th century French lifestyle. Everyone did it. There are a few hinted at things that you may or may not pick up on, but I'm not going to point them out as they will be fully explained in the chapters to come. I hope you enjoyed! Review if you'd like. <strong>

**Kara is awesome, by the way 3**


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